Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am
by Andrew-Squee
Summary: 911 emergency. The operator said...There was the sound of cookies being tossed and then: My friend's body... just showed up on my door step. A woman's voice replied. ON HIATUS
1. Frat Party

_Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am_

Disclaimer: I don't own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit.

A/N: First fan fic in this category, in a more serious style than normal for me. Hope you like it.

Chapter One

"911 emergency." The operator said.

There was the sound of cookies being tossed and then: "My friend's body... just showed up on my door step." A woman's voice replied.

--

"There were these frat guys. They had paid for a private party. Aimee, Janet, Bentley and I were assigned the party. It started out fine. They paid way too much for really simple stuff. But then they all got really plastered, slurred words, bottle after bottle. One guy tried to jump on the stage and dance with Janet. Bentley was giving one of them a lap dance and she was nearly raped. But the guy who did it, he was the most sober of them all. He had had like two drinks, if even. Then it hit closing time and we left, they left, I think they left, but they were gone from the club when we were leaving. Janet left first, cause her car was the closest. We saw her drive off. Then Bentley left. Aimee and I saw her pull out. Then there's this blinding light coming at us. I tell Aimee to jump out of the way, but she doesn't move! Then they pull up next to her and yank her into the car. The last thing she said was 'Bronte!' What was I suppose to do? I should've grabbed her; we should've run. But I didn't think they would snatch her like that!" Bronte Currier, a slim, brunette in her mid-twenties finished telling her story to Detectives Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler about what had happened the night before. Tears were smearing her makeup, leaving black trails of mascara down her face. "I should've helped her. But I just stayed there, not moving. And they… they violated and killed her! The bastards!"

Benson and Stabler looked at each other. "Bronte, thank you for telling us about last night. We're truly sorry about your loss." Benson said.

"Yeah, well, I guess that's what you get for practically being a slut." Bronte muttered. "Somebody comes along and rapes you."

"Do you think it was one of the fraternity members?" Stabler asked.

"The car swerved a lot. They were the last to leave. The guy in the passenger seat looked familiar, like I had seen him somewhere. But, then again, a lot of college kids look alike nowadays." Bronte replied.

--

"Do you think it was one of those boys?" Benson asked Elliot.

"It could be." He replied. They were on their way to the club to talk to the manager, to see if they could find out which frat house had booked the party. "But it's a place to start."


	2. Clubbing

_Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am_

Disclaimer: I don't own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit.

A/N: If anyone knows of a place to get character profiles (not the actors, the people they play.) and can tell me, I would like that person immensely. Also, Aimee Kute, Bronte Currier, Benedict Chary, Bentley Dizrobee, and Janet Iyre are mine. As is "Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am"

Chapter Two

They had gotten to the club with little traffic, which was rare for New York.

The parking lot was small, it held about fifty or so cars comfortable. Two sides had grass as a border, and signs that said "Overflow Parking Only"

"How many people are they expecting?" Benson asked.

Stabler shrugged. "More than fifty."

The building was non-descript. The only thing that identified it as a strip club was the sign at the edge of the road: "Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am. Strip Club and Bar." The building was made of simple red brick and the door was red. The detectives had no problem getting in once they showed their badges.

The club was dimly lit. In the lack of light, it looked like an internet café, with bright colors, tables, chairs, several ATM's. The only things that stood out were the stage in the middle of the room with a half dozen poles at intervals around the edge and a glass wall that sectioned off two private rooms with smaller stages.

"Hello there, detectives. My name is Benedict Chary. I'm the manager of this fine establishment. How may I assist you?" Chary asked.

Stabler looked at the stout, balding man with a pointed nose and thin lips. "We were wondering if you could tell us which fraternity booked a private party here last night." He replied.

"Why?" Chary asked.

"One of your dancer's bodies, Aimee Kute's, was dropped off at Bronte Currier's apartment. She was raped and then strangled to death." Benson replied.

"Aimee was murdered?" Chary questioned, his eyes getting wide. "Who would want to do that?"

"That's what we're trying to find out." Stabler answered.

"Um, the private party." Chary muttered, going behind the counter and pulling out a black appointment book. "Yeah, it was Theta Delta Gamma, from NYU. There were like, ten, fifteen guys. Aimee, Bronte, Bentley and, uh, Janet were assigned to them. Rowdy group. Drank way too much."

"Thanks. Oh, and, did Aimee mention that she was pregnant?" Benson questioned as she and Stabler were leaving.

"Pregnant? No. Never said a word to me about it." Chary told her. "Never said a word."

As the bright light of the sun momentarily blinded them when they stepped outside, Benson remarked, "I think he's lying."

--

"I was going over the girl's story, from the 911 call to the statement. If the perp dropped Aimee's body off at Bronte's house, then they had to know both of them intimately. It's not the girl, because she called right when the operator picks up you can hear vomiting. If she had committed the murder, then she wouldn't be throwing up." Dr. Huang remarked. "Then, after a couple minutes of that, she final tells the operator about Aimee's body."

"Yeah, and the ME says that it was defiantly something male that entered the poor girl." Munch added.

"So it could very well be the frat boys." Fin commented.

"Well, the manager, Chary, says that he didn't know Aimee was pregnant." Stabler stated.

"Yeah, but she was six weeks along, so that means that she knew, but it doesn't mean she told him." Benson reasoned.

"Right, doesn't want to lose her job." Fin agreed. "So who knew about the pregnancy?"

"Are you suggesting that the baby's father killed her?" Cragen asked.

"Well, we've seen enough cases where the father kills the mother and the unborn baby because he doesn't want to accept the responsibility when she's pushing it on him." Munch replied.

"Well, see if you can get some DNA from the baby, then." Cragen ordered.


	3. DNA Collection

_Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am_

Disclaimer: I don't own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit.

A/N: usual mush; hope you enjoy my serious side… SIX PAGES!! That's good for me.

Chapter Three

"The DNA that we got from the baby doesn't match anybody in the system." Dr. Warner remarked.

"Well, Fin and Munch are going over to the frat house to see who was at the club last night and get DNA." Benson said.

"Where are you going?" Warner asked.

"Back to the club. Going to interview the rest of the girls and get DNA from all of the men." Stabler replied.

"Have fun." Warner told them.

--

The fraternity was on the edge of campus. It was a white stucco building, three stories high. The grass around the building was browning, since it was fall, and there was little else that would be considered plants besides some weeds.

The inside was clean, considering that the occupants of the house were college boys without a mother around to tell them to clean up. The furniture was mismatched and there were no two pieces alike. Fin and Munch were with a bleach blonde earlier twenties kid in the eating area, sitting at the table.

"So, tell me, who was at that private party last night?" Fin asked the boy named David Ferrimen.

"Well, there was me, and George, Greg, Eric, Gary, Nick, Will, Jared, Scott and Anthony." David replied.

"Any last names?" Munch questioned.

"George Ivies, Greg Hamilton, Eric Spry, Gary Talbert, Nick Jones, Will Dormer, Jared and Scott Pitters, they're cousins, and Anthony Steppes." David told them.

"Any of you guys date an Aimee Kute?" Munch inquired.

"Don't think so." David responded. "Did she go here?"

"Naw, she was a stripper at that club you guys went to last night." Fin told him.

"Oh!" David exclaimed. "Then, no. Nobody's dated a stripper, at least in this house, cause we would know about that."

"Thanks for your help, but we'd really appreciate it if you could get the other nine guys down here to talk to." Munch said. "Oh, and we need a DNA sample."

"Yeah, sure, no problem." David replied. "The last thing we want is any trouble with the police."

--

"You take Chary and the other men." Benson said. "I'll talk to Bentley and Janet."

"Okay." Stabler agreed. They headed off in their separate directions.

--

George Ivies was about the same age as David. He was a brunette with a whimsical personality, and Munch had the pleasure of interviewing him.

"Did you ever date an Aimee Kute?" Munch asked.

"No way. I don't steal other people's girls." George replied.

"Other people's girls?" Munch questioned.

"Yeah. Mark was dating her. Earlier this year. Said she was a real good piece of ass." George answered.

"Well that real good piece of ass was raped and killed."

"No way! Aimee?? Killed?"

"Why is it no surprise she was raped?"

"She already had a kid. The woman was loose. Said Mark was the father of her new baby. But Mark wasn't having that. See, the chick was only, like, pregnant a month, and she and Mark? They were ancient history three months ago. There was no way it was his baby."

"Does Mark have a last name?"

"Uh… Poplin."

"Poplin. Thanks. Oh, and is there anyway I can get a sample of your DNA? To rule you out."

"Yeah, no problem."

--

"Mr. Chary, we're going to need a DNA sample from you." Stabler told him.

"What?! Why? Not without a warrant!" He quickly replied.

"I've got a warrant right here." Stabler replied, pulling out a piece of paper.

Chary looked at the warrant, his face blank. His thoughts, however, were working overtime. _What are you going to do about this? What if it _is _your baby? You only slept with her once. She never mentioned that it might be yours. But you were with her seven, eight months ago. If the baby _was_ yours, then… _"Sure, warrant, no problem."

Stabler just nodded.

--

Fin had taken Greg Hamilton, red hair, freckles on every part of his face and arms, was sullen and gave monotone, monosyllabic answers whenever possible.

"Did you ever date an Aimee Kute?" Fin asked.

"No." Greg replied.

"Ever heard of her?"

"No."

"Mind if I take a sample of your DNA?"

"No."

"You've been real helpful, Greg."

Greg shrugged. "'Kay."

--

The back room of the strip club was mirrors on both sides with black bar stools every five feet or so. There were about fifteen chairs on each side, thirty in all. Janet Iyre was near the end of the right row.

"It's truly a tragedy what happened to Aimee. Her murder, I mean. She already had a kid that came from her being loose. The girl was real loose. I don't wanna speak ill of the dead, but she was a slut. Any guy that she met? Just like the name says, wham, bam, thank you ma'am." Janet said.

"She had a kid?" Benson asked.

"Yeah. You're the cops, you should've known that. You've those pedaphille cops, right? You capture the perverts. You're pervert police." Janet replied.

Benson opened her mouth to say something horrible, but thought better of it. Instead she asked, "Was Aimee dating anyone?"

"No. She was screwing around with, like, five people, but I couldn't give you names."

"Anyone giving her problems?"

"No. She has hassling Benedict, though. Saying he got her pregnant. There is _no_ way he got her preganant. He's been with me for the last six months, and she didn't start saying that until two weeks ago."

"Benedict Chary?"

"How many other Benedicts do you know?"

"Thanks, Janet. You've been a big help."

"Whatever."

--

Eric Spry, Gary Talbert, Nick Jones, Will Dormer, the Pitters cousins and Anthony Steppes had no new information to add from what Fin and Munch already knew. The only person who they needed to get a warrant for was Anthony.

"That's weird…out of all of those boys, only one didn't voluntarily give up his DNA. That just screams guilty." Munch remarked.

"He might want to become a lawyer. He gave off that rich kid vibe." Fin commented.

"Rich kid vibe?" Munch asked.

"Yeah, you know, the 'I'm-better-than-you-because-I-wear-designer-polo-shirts-for-fun-and-I-can-afford-them' type." Fin replied.

"I'll keep that in mind when I go shopping for polo shirts." Munch scoffed.

--

"Are you Ivan Pinion?" Stabler asked the bald, tough-looking man behind the bar.

"Depends on whose asking." The man replied.

"Detective Stabler, special victims unit." Stabler said, pulling out his badge.

"Yeah, I'm Ivan Pinion. You must be here about Aimee's murder."

"Yeah. So, um, was she seeing anyone?"

"Not to my knowledge. But I don't really talk to the girls much. I just pour drinks."

"So, you wouldn't mind giving up a sample of your DNA?"

"Not in the least."

--

Bentley Dizrobee had called in sick, so Benson met Stabler early.

"How'd it go?" She asked.

"About as well as you would expect. Chary had to see the warrant, and the bartender was the only other male." Stabler replied.

"Janet does not think highly of Aimee."

"Are you saying she's got motive?"

"No, I just don't think she'd be very reliable for the truth about Aimee."

"I hope Fin and Munch had better luck."


	4. Spinning

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU

"Let's go through what we know, people. I want this wrapped up." Cragen ordered.

"Some guy named Mark Poplin was her boyfriend at the frat house. She had a kid already and was trying to pin the new one on Mark." Munch replied.

"The owner, Chary? He made sure we had a warrant before he gave up his DNA." Stabler added.

"Sounds suspicious to me." Fin remarked.

"According to Janet, Aimee was sleeping with about five different guys." Benson said. "And Janet said Aimee has hassling Chary about him getting her pregnant."

"Anthony Steppes needed a warrant." Munch told them.

"And Bentley called in sick." Stabler informed them.

"Find the child, talk to this Poplin kid, and interview Chary again. See if either of them has an alibi." Cragen ordered.

-

Mark Poplin was tall and scrawny. There seemed to be no body fat on him. His light blue sweater clung to him, as did the tight, acid-washed jeans. He had dirty blonde hair that was pulled back in a pony tail. The pony tail went down to his ankles.

"You even heard of a haircut?" Fin asked.

Mark laughed. "Yeah. Never got on. Parents were hippies. Believed in that whole 'you are one with the earth thing.' I just like long hair."

"Did you date an Aimee Kute?" Munch questioned.

"Yeah! That little slut said I was the father of her kid!" Mark replied, angry.

"What makes you so sure you aren't?" Fin asked.

"She was screwing her boss, and these kids at one of the frat houses. There's no way that baby could've been mine." Mark said, sure of himself.

"Did you sleep with her?" Munch inquired.

"Yeah. Like, six months before she started claiming she was pregnant." Mark shrugged. "No way it was me."

"Where were you Friday night?" Munch asked.

"I was out. With my new girlfriend." Mark replied.

"What's her name?" Fin questioned.

"Lisa. Lisa Amery." Mark responded.

"Would you mind giving us a sample of your DNA, just in case." Munch requested.

"Sure," Mark scoffed, "But you aren't gonna find anything."

-

Benson and Stabler were waiting for one of the people at Children's Services to come back.

"I doubt the kid's here." Benson remarked.

"Well, next stop is the parents." Stabler replied.

"What about her apartment?" Benson asked.

"Highly possible." Stabler sighed. "Shame that people are so irresponsible."

Melissa Gentry, a medium-built African-American walked around the corner. "Okay, I have no records of an Aimee Kute bringing any child, boy or girl, in. I asked the personal, and none of them remember her. Sorry I couldn't have helped you out, detectives." She said, shaking her head.

"Thanks anyway." Benson replied, a tight smile on her lips.

-

"Look, I already talked to the other detectives. You have my DNA. What more could you possibly want from me?" Chary asked, hostile.

"Where were you Friday night?" Fin countered.

"I was here. Closing up." Chary replied.

"Any one corroborate it?" Munch questioned.

"Ivan can." Chary answered.

"How late where you here?" Fin inquired.

"Until about five. The sun was coming up on my ride home." Chary told him.

"Thanks." Munch remarked.

-

Benson knocked on the door of a small, one story home, with pink paint chipping off the sides exposing a layer of brown. The lawn wouldn't win an award, but is was well-maintained.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kute? Hello?" Benson asked, still knocking.

A frail woman who appeared to be in her early sixties or seventies opened the door. "I'm Elizabeth Kute." She told them. "Who are you?"

"I'm Detective Benson, this is my partner Detective Stabler. We're here about your daughter." Benson explained.

"Oh, Aimee? Is she all right?" Mrs. Kute asked.

"I think you might want to sit down." Benson replied.

Mrs. Kute made her way to a light colored couch in a cluttered living room. Yellowing newspapers were everywhere, over a thousand it seemed on first glance.

"Now, what is this news about Aimee, that requires me to sit down?" Mrs. Kute asked.

"Mrs. Kute… I'm sorry for your loss. Um, your daughter, was, um… murdered." Stabler replied.

"Oh, that doesn't surprise me. Not in the very least." Mrs. Kute shook her head.

"May I ask why not?" Bernson inquired.

"She came around her about a year ago with my grandson. Jefferey was his name. Cute little boy. She asked me to be his mother. I'm almost 80. I'm in no condition to be the mother of a little baby. He was so small, too. Too small to be healthy. I told her that she should have her husband take care of it. She said she wasn't married. I told her to get married. She said the father didn't wanna get married. I told her that she was gonna hafta get a babysitter or give of the kid. Shame, too. First grandkid. Would you like some tea?" Mrs. Kute asked. "Oh, I'm getting off topic. But it's ride to have guests and not offer them anything to drink. Anyway, Aimee came around her about a week ago. Said she was pregnant again. That girl just could not keep her legs closed. Never could. Why, when she was in high school, she got pregnant, and the baby miscarried. Could've been a bad thing, too, if the baby had lived. Girl would've had to drop out of high school. Now, we were never rich, but we had had a college fund all set up for her. Girl drops outta school when she's sixteen. Only came around after that when she wanted something. Stupid girl."

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Kute." Benson said, "And, again, sorry about your loss."

Mrs. Kute chuckled. "Ain't nothing to be sorry about."

-

"Ivan, I presume." Munch remarked, sitting down at the bar.

"I take it you're a detective." Ivan replied.

"Good guess." Munch told him. "Can you tell me what you were doing Friday night?"

"I was working. Closed up that night. Left about sunrise." Ivan informed them.

"Was Benedict Chary here?" Fin asked.

"Uh… I think so. I don't have the keys to lock up. If he was here, I didn't see him." Ivan replied.

"Thanks." Munch nodded.

-

"Where would you leave your one year old son, at night, while you were working at a strip club?" Benson asked.

"I don't know." Stabler replied. "I just don't know."


End file.
